Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Guinea-Bissau and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Basic Channel to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
EPMD,
Agent Orange,
Rites of Spring,
Ronnie Foster,
Popol Vuh,
Qualms,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gang of Four,
Desert Stars,
The Neon Judgement,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Fugs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ornette Coleman,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Residents,
Stetsasonic,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sällskapet,
Gichy Dan,
Pulsallama,
Loose Ends,
Motorama,
Skriet,
The Index,
Terry Callier,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Yaz,
Piero Umiliani,
Black Pus,
Theoretical Girls,
Silicon Teens,
Prince Buster,
T.S.O.L.,
the Association,
Eli Mardock,
Pylon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cabaret Voltaire,
10cc,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ice-T,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Janne Schatter,
Magma,
Alice Coltrane,
Thee Headcoats,
Dark Day,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Fire Engines,
Patti Smith,
The Barracudas,
PIL,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Robert Hood,
Neil Young,
Ponytail,
Don Cherry,
Joe Finger,
Dorothy Ashby,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.